


Missing Scene: When You Go, What You Leave Is a Work of Art

by thegrumblingirl



Series: More of a Personal Statement [5]
Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Songfic, don't hate me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:18:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows James loves him. And he knows that James will never know it. </p>
<p>Missing scene from my More of a Personal Statement verse. James Bond/Q, post-Skyfall. Ties in with Countermanded/Countersigned in particular, takes place before Unintended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Scene: When You Go, What You Leave Is a Work of Art

**Author's Note:**

> Verse: More of a Personal Statement series, missing scene from within Countermanded/Countersigned. Takes us back to the beginning.  
> As soon as I first heard the song _Featherstone_ by The Paper Kites after finishing the Avengers crossover with Phil reassuring Q, I knew this was going to have to happen. You can listen to it here.  
>  For Ch. and Inkie. I’m so sorry for the angst!

_Wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart  
Wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart_

Q lies awake, propped up on his elbow, watching 007 sleep. James is lying on his back beside him, legs tangled into the blankets, his face towards Q. He looks calm and exhausted and it’s a sight Q didn’t think he’d get to see tonight. James’ right hand is resting on Q’s thigh, not quite holding, but not just random, either. Q woke up about an hour ago, doesn’t know why, and he doesn’t mind. He’s tired and weeks of almost non-stop work have driven him into the ground; and his brain is yelling at him to give it up and become an electrician, but he can’t. Can’t give up his work, can’t give up this, whatever it is.

The first time had ended with a promise from James, a promise he wanted so hard to believe. But then James had gone off on a mission that had separated them for almost a month, tethered only by each other’s voices in their ears and pulsing GPS signals, and when it was done, none of it had seemed real anymore.

He had gone straight from MI6 home to his flat that night, intent on hiding himself away, not wanting to see the look on James’ face when he realised he’d forgotten. He’d just finished making himself some tea when there’d been a knock on the door.

“I said I’d come find you.”

They’d had three days before M had called again, and again there’d been a promise. The next mission had taken just as long, but this time Q had waited for James at the lab, and James had taken him home without a word. And every time since then.

_When you go, what you leave is a work of art  
On my chest, on my heart._

Q didn’t kid himself. The first time Bond had slept with a woman on that first mission after Skyfall had cut, deep, and he’d needed a day to convince himself that he’d known this about him; and that their first escape had taught him so much more. He knew it was James’ cover, he knew it was part of who 007 was, not James. Still, the thought of hands and lips where days before his own had been had left him burning with cold. And now, each time James left on a mission, it got easier and so much worse.

_Where’d you go, where’d you go, why’d you leave this place?  
Or my heart, or my face._

He hadn’t expected to be with James again after the first time. He’d known not to give in to hope, had known that two days were more than he could have wished for. He’d planned on leaving and never turning back.

And then, James had stopped and kissed him, in the hallway; and now every time Q stood in that hallway—either taking off his coat, putting his bag down, or pressed against the wall, James saying hello or goodbye in much the same way—he thought of that evening. When James hadn’t pushed him away, not the first time, not the second, not the third, he’d known.

_And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine_   
_So I’ll go, but we know I’ll see you down the line_   
_And we’ll hate what we’ve lost, but we’ll love what we find_   
_But, oh, I’m feeling fine, we made it to the coastline_

He knows James loves him. And he knows that James will never know it.

_Past all the signs of a slow decline_   
_You live like your love wasn’t meant for mine_   
_Now you’ve gone, now you’ve gone, to a different life_   
_To the lonely side_

He can’t, because he’s not ready. His past is too powerful and looming large behind him, even now. And Q’s fine with that, really, because he'd rather have this than have James realise it and run away from him, leaving him with less than nothing and two broken hearts to show for it. Because that’s what he’s waiting for, for James to wake up and stare at him and bolt. But until that happens, he’s going to take what he gets and love him anyway, and sometimes it hits him that he’s happy, despite everything. James is all he _can_ be, and that’s all Q needs; and it’s still a hell of a lot more than other men are capable of.

_Wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart_   
_Wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart_   
_When you go, what you leave is a work of art_   
_On my chest, on my heart_

When they’re together, Q knows that he’s all there is. James zones in on him, makes him the centre of his world; and when they’re at work, he places his life in Q’s hands without a second thought. Q can count on him to take him seriously, to tell him the truth, to have his back, to catch him when he falls. And as long as James isn’t aware why, they’ll be fine.

_And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine_   
_So I’ll go, but we know I’ll see you down the line_   
_And we’ll hate what we’ve lost, but we’ll love what we find_   
_And, oh, I’m feeling fine; we made it to the coastline_

They’ve made it as far as this. Q doesn’t allow himself to dream, doesn’t allow himself to think that, perhaps, one day James will wake up and stare at him and smile, instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing, I get nothing.
> 
> Crossposted on ff.net.


End file.
